


By the Goddess's Grace

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ganondorf is locked away. Zelda has turned back time, and years have past, leaving her a woman grown, and Link a man. Ready for her crown, Zelda is still at the will of her father, and her future depends on her marriage, and what she plans to do after. Link, ever faithful to his princess, is forced to stand by and watch his other half being forced into the hands of a foreign prince. But what can the two do that does not threaten Zelda's claim to the crown, and her people? (In Progress)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Link/Zelda has been my OTP since I was a child, and finding such a lack of the two in the OoT section, I've decided to add my own take on the storyline. I didn't follow the Hyrule Historia (shame), but decided on a future of my own. Stylized after my GoT/ASoIaF fics, to have a darker, more adult feel.

In the dead of night, Zelda felt invisible as she moved through the courtyard. Her cloak, black as the sky above, was pulled tightly up around her pale golden tresses and face. Her steps were sure, she had taken this path many nights in her life, from her younger years as a child even.

She knew how to slip past the guards. She knew how to press her body to bushes and trees and stone walls, how to hold her breath and make her foot steps light and nearly silent. She had to hold her skirts while she moved, and while she was sure of her way, she always felt somewhat unsure of her step. If she fell, she would be discovered. If she was discovered, she would be locked in her chambers and the night taken from her forever.

Once past the guards, it was a short run down the cobblestone path to the castle gate. Zelda gripped the metal rungs sunk into the rock that made the bulk of the gate and began climbing up. Her slippers didn’t grip them the way a soldier’s boots would, and she had to go slowly for fear of slipping. Once she had hoisted herself to the top of the gate, she moved quietly. There were no rungs leading down the other side, she would be forced to climb the last few feet on the rugged stone to the large natural walls that lined the path to the castle.

Zelda took a deep breath as she began. She was not an extremely skilled climber, though for a Princess she could scall the rocks exceptionally well. Had she been wearing riding boots and proper gloves, she would have been more courageous- but in slippers and no gloves at all, she had to take her time. She also did not dare having a small stone drop and alert the guards of her ascent.

When her hands fisted in the soft grass above she hoisted herself up, and knew she was in the clear. Holding her skirts, she ran just past the edge, able to see the road, and how empty it was.

In the distance she saw the town in the throws of night. Some people slept, some were up drinking and laughing. Some, she was sure, were in secret meetings much like her own.

But that was not what she saw. What she saw was a lean man atop his horse, in the glow of the crystalline moon, his golden hair turning the shade of pale, ghostly skin. By now the land had sloped down, and Zelda jumped off the small ledge, landing on her feet and hurrying to him.

By the time she reached him, he had dismounted, and was laughing at her. A rich, hearty, thick sound like spiced wine that flowed through the air, danced in her hair. She pulled her hood down and smiled at him, and Link wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace.

“For a moment I thought you’d fly, your highness.” She leaned back and smacked him near his shoulder playfully.

“Don’t tease me. It’s Zelda, always.” He grinned at her, reaching up to mess up her long, free hair. She giggled, turning into a child beneath his touch. He always made her feel so free, so slowing with joy. Truly, he was the best friend she had ever known.

“Did anyone see you?” he asked as they walked to Epona. He helped her onto the horse, then mounted behind her, taking up the reins.

“No. The guards might as well be sleeping at their posts. It’s a blessing for us, but if there was ever a need for their protection, I’d find better help my slippers.”

Link chuckled, an arm wrapping around her waist and holding her back against his chest. “Remind me to never cross your slippers, highness.”

Zelda laughed again as they rode through the streets, towards the drawbridge. She had sense enough to pull her hood up, and the guards let Link pass without a second thought.

Once they were free of the walls Epona broke into a run. Zelda squealed with joy and let her hood fall back, gripping the saddle with one hand, the other gripping Link’s hand on her waist. It had been too long since their last midnight ride, so long that Zelda could almost forget the cold wind’s kiss in her hair, the embrace of it around her body, Link’s burning heat against her back. Stark contrasts she loved.

Riding during the daylight wasn’t the same. The world looked different, and their were guards, chaperons. The King was not a complete fool, if the princess wanted to leave the city walls, she was guarded. He didn’t even dare trust Link alone with her now, now that they were no longer children. Goddesses forbid a man not rich or princely laid his hands on Hyrule's only princess, and his heir.

Zelda couldn’t deny that part of the allure was doing what she was forbidden. Her life was so structured that this little touch of air was pure bliss. But Link’s company was far more enticing, and without anyone to watch over them, she had the opportunity to be as playful as she desired. She did love to tease her poor hero.

Epona slowed as the city was just a speck in the distance. Off ahead Zelda could see the mountains and the forests, and off to the side she knew Lake Hylia sat beautiful and clear. Link hopped down off Epona and helped her down. She looked around, unfastening her cloak despite the chill, letting it fall to the ground as Link pulled something from a small saddlebag, and gave Epona and loving smack. She trotted off a few feet, then started grazing peacefully.

Link settled down on Zelda’s cloak, smoothing it out next to him. She sat down, splaying her teal and blue skirts around her, and watched as he pulled open the wineskin and took a drink. He passed it to her and she let her fingertips linger an extra moment on his before taking it and taking a swallow. It was sweet, honeyed and spiced, though a bit stronger than what she would have typically been drinking at a meal. She liked it.

Zelda liked the silence. Some nights, she and Link spoke at length about anything. About what trouble he had gotten into that day, about her lessons, about swords and dresses, about the newest servant girl or Link’s latest stranger turned friend. And some nights, they sat in silence, and Zelda liked to fool herself into thinking this was actually her life, that she had all her nights to give to Link, with no one to watch them like children, with good wine and cool wind and the smell of grass.

Some nights she could pretend he’d go back to the castle with her, to her chambers, and curl up beneath her blankets with her. Some nights, he was her future and her past, her present, her breath. But it was never true.

“One of the Lon Lon horses just had a foal,” he said, taking another drink. In the moon and starlight his eyes seemed black and endless. “Malon was beside herself with glee- it was one of her horses.”

“Good for her,” Zelda said, her bare hand absently running over the cloak. Malon, a topic Zelda could loath. She held no ill will for the girl, she was hard working, cute, some might say pretty even, and full of life. She had a freedom with Link that Zelda was not allowed in the daylight. She envied that. “Will she keep it for herself or sell it?”

“I’m not sure,” Link admitted, “she said she wanted to give it to me, like she did Epona. Said she didn’t want her getting lonely.” He took a drink of wine. “I don’t think she was serious, though. I think she’ll keep it, as it’s her first.”

Zelda only nodded now. She’d give Link half the kingdom if she could. She’d make him ask her though, to tease him. To hear his voice.

She sighed and leaned against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her side. “Do you remember the first night you snuck out?”

“Yes,” Zelda said, toying with the hem on her dress. “What was I, fifteen?”

“Fourteen,” Link corrected, “nearly six years ago. I was so nervous you’d get caught, I could have worn through my tunic and saddle with how much I twitched waiting.”

Zelda smiled at that. “You took me to the forest, and tried to get me to climb a tree.”

“Ay, you were terrible at it.” He laughed, toying with her hair. It made her nearly shiver. She smacked his leg.

“I was in a dress. You’d be terrible too if you were in a dress.”

“But not nearly as beautiful.” She did blush then, her breath almost catching. Even if he was just being playful, words like that struck Zelda’s chest, through her ribs and to her heart.

“We tore me dress,” she was remembering to forget, “we tore it so badly I wasn’t sure how I’d ever explain it. Stained it too when I fell. And we laughed and ended up on the ground, staring up at the stars to see which we recognized.”

He smiled at her, something warm and sweet. “How did you ever explain that dress?”

“I hid it, honestly. Then once I had out grown it, I threw it in a fire in the hearth. Scared the servants with the flames, but no one ever knew.”

In the silence that followed, Zelda remembered other things about that night. How Link looked a silly hybrid of boy and man, how his voice wasn’t as deep as it was now, or his hands as calloused. But most of all, she remembered him shaking as he snuck her back to the castle gate, as he leaned close and stole a kiss from her girlish lips. She must have turned as red as a ruby, and dashed off giggling.

It was the first he’d taken, though there had been a few that followed after. Not for a long time, and never more than something soft and curious, but they were still there, between the two of them. Zelda would never forget, not matter who her father forced her to marry, no matter if Link took Malon to bed and wife, or any other girl he met. She had those few kisses locked away inside, and no one could rob her of them.

They dared only about two hours under the moon. It grew colder, and Zelda knew she had an early morning before her. As Link called for Epona, she slipped her cloak over her shoulders and fastened it by her neck, wondering, as she had the last time she had slipped into the night with Link, if it would be the last time. It always could be- she could wake the next morning and suddenly be betrothed, a wedding mostly planned. He could wake up and go off and never come back. Or only his bones could come back.

They rode back to town just as they had left, Zelda in front, hidden under her hood. Different guards were posted, as they had planned, and they went without question. Everyone knew Link, and he could go anywhere he pleased. Even onto castle grounds- the guards often spoke that he was kind enough on his night rides to give a patrol to make sure all was safe. When they reached the gates all Link had to do was call to the guard within, and he had the gate lifted without even looking. No one saw Zelda nestled in front of him.

He took her as close as he dared, then tightened his arm around her waist in a hug.

“Come visit tomorrow,” she said, clutching his hand, “come have lunch with me. I will need the reprieve.”

“Your life is so hard,” he teased, but he knew it was not as easy as some would think. She was being groomed to run a kingdom, and run it better than her father was. While he was not hated, he was by no means loved, nor doing anything to improve that status. The best thing he had ever done was put Zelda in her mother’s belly. She turned to him and he hugged her more properly, burying his face in her pale blonde hair. It was soft and sweet smelling, giving him a warm shiver down his spine, around to his gut. “Of course, my princess.”

“Good.” She looked around quickly, then worried her lower lip a moment before she decided to the hells with it, and leaned in, closing the gap. She placed a soft kiss on his lips, lingered for a moment, two, long enough for his hands to grip her waist.

She did not remember exactly how long it had been since they had last kissed. It was so spare, so sporadic and short and overly attempting to be nothing. But talk of her future grew ever more insistent by the day, and she did not expect to be so alone with Link again, nor to have the nerve.

She realized she was shaking, just ever so slightly, and gripped his arms trying to still herself, yet her lips moved slowly, like liquid against his, sweet and heavy like honey. She didn’t want to pull away, felt like she could drown on his sweetness, when she felt the heat of his tongue tracing her lips. A jolt shot through her body, and she pulled back, cheeks flushed, shocked at herself, at him, at the way she ached.

Saying nothing more, she slipped off Epona and hurried into the darkness, nearly running, to hide under her covers and wish she was a common girl who could have gone off with Link into the forest and simply stayed there.


	2. Chapter 2

Dawn found her tired but awake. She bathed, dressed, and spent the morning hours with her treasury advisers. It was something he father should be doing at least a few times a week, but had neglected to do for many years. He left them to find gold and rupees for the kingdom, while he spent it all. Zelda had been spending many months trying to pick up the pieces, though she had been sitting in on their councils on and off for years. She had wanted to learn early, she wanted to know how to run a kingdom, every aspect. Gold was a very important one.

They told her there that her father had commanded them to find sums enough to pay for lengthy visits of large parties, food the put to shame any feast. They had no names to give her, he had spoken none, but he had made it seem of utmost importance. Zelda knew it could only pertain to her and her still unclaimed hand, but she did not speak it. Simply, she told them it would not do, though she knew they would heed her father before her. Even if she was wiser, even if they knew she had the kingdom’s interests at heart, her father still lived and sat his fat ass upon the throne, they were his to command and only hers to ask.

After walking a few rungs around the castle to check on the daily running of things, she was released for her mid day meal. Link had known the castle’s typical schedule for meals, but when she did not find him waiting for her in the small dinning room where she took her lunches, she fretted. She paced the small room, traced her hand along the tables that lined one wall, along the edges of a large painting on the other. It was of her great grandfather, his wife, and all their children. They had many, though lost many to sickness, one to a fall from a horse, and another had run off instead of facing the pressures of what was expected of a proper princess. Zelda envied her.

The doors opened then, and she heard footfalls, heavy boots, though the steps were light. She didn’t turn right away as the doors closed, she waited until he stopped behind her, until she could nearly feel him.

“Are we alone?” It was spoken softly, and his hand on the small of her back was enough of an answer, though he spoke.

“Yes.”

“Good.” She turned, smiled at him, though she remembered the way her lips had melted against his. She was too old to feel a love sick child at twenty, but she was, she always was. Some days she hid it better than others. “Dreadful morning, truly. My father is pissing away gold and rupees we haven’t even begun to think of owning yet.”

He chuckled and they walked over to the table. They sat opposite, though Zelda would have loved to sit next to him. Or better, to take a glass of wine to the courtyard and for go the food, to sit under the sun with him and listen to the sounds of steel ringing on steel as the knights and guards practiced, or the sounds of the children of the serving men and women laughing and playing. Instead, they had a small dreary room. Instead, Zelda had to stare at him and not touch him.

“How did you spend your morning?” she asked, poking at the food on her plate. Lunch was fruits and fresh bread, some chilled meat and cheese, set out just before she had arrived. She took up her wine glass instead.

“At the ranch,” Link admitted, and she didn’t need to ask which. “The foal looks good. Malon was beaming like a little girl. She’s spending so much time fawning over the little thing she’d gotten behind on everything else that needed to be done. I figured it’d happen, so I stopped by to help.”

“How kind of you.” Zelda couldn’t hide the bitter edge to her voice, though she wished she could when she saw the wounded look he gave her. She could fault him not for his time with the ranch girl- she was a very possible bride to be for him, and Link would do good to marry into the family. Lon Lon ranch held a decent amount of wealth from its milk sales, and with Malon taking such an interest in horses, Zelda could see breeding in the future. He’d have a stable life, good honest work, a loving wife, and goddesses by good, lots of children.

Part of her wished to never live to see that. She took a long drink of her wine, trying not to watch Link tear off a piece of bread and eat it slowly, eyeing her too.

“So what is your father spending so many rupees on?” he asked, taking up his own wine glass.

“I wish I truly knew.” She took up a piece of cheese and popped it in her mouth. “He told the treasury council to plan for lengthy visits for a large party. And for feasts, many, _many_ feasts.” She sighed. “I can only fathom it has to do with his plans for my future. My guess would be whatever family he has decided it fit to marry into ours will be coming to stay when the betrothal is announced. If I’m truly unlucky, he’s planning the wedding for the same visit. I’m rather past the age of long betrothals.”

Link paled a bit, drank deeply of the wine. “I’m sure it will be a wonderful event-“

“Oh spare me,” Zelda said flatly, folding her arms under her breasts. “You know as well as I it will be pure misery. Whatever sorry whore son my father has chosen for me wants nothing but what Hyrule can add to their name, and to slip between my thighs and seal their fate as a king.”

“Such words from a princess.” He was smiling now, teasing her, Zelda knew trying to lighten her mood. She offered him a quirk of her lips. It was impossible not to.

“I know a lot of words, hero,” she reminded him, running her finger along the rim of her wine glass. “Shall I speak them for you?”

“I’m not sure I could handle it, Zelda,” he admitted, almost too honestly, before taking another drink. She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him, feeling the air growing thick between them. She did not deny that there was some tension between the two, it was impossible to. Link did his best to hide it, to act ever the friend and playful gentleman, but she saw it in his eyes, heard it in this voice, felt it in the heat of his skin. He’d slip between her thighs if she gave him the chance as well. At least, he’d want to.

Oh, how she’d like to give him the chance.

“You’re no fun at all,” she said, pushing her chair back and standing up. She walked around the table, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head against him. “The poor woman who will be stuck with you as a cheerless husband!” she wailed playfully, and he laughed.

“You’re such a child,” he said, pushing his chair back and grabbing her roughly. He pulled her over the arm of the chair and into his lap, much to her surprise, gripping her wrists with just one of his strong hands. “Someone really should teach you a lesson.”

_Oh, please, by the goddesses do!_

“Then do it,” Zelda breathed, her dress suddenly feeling heavy, her skin hot. She knew she should move, she should distance herself from Link, before someone entered the room. This was far from proper for her, and her father would be livid. But she couldn’t. He was warm, solid and hard beneath his tunic, his eyes deep and dark and inviting.

His free hand sank into her hair and tilted her head up, and he closed the gap quickly. He kissed her more forcefully than he had the past night, his lips moving against hers as if their time was short, their life extinguishing. She moaned softly, wishing he’d free her hands so she could touch him. Instead, she wiggled around, tormenting his manhood, trapped beneath the heavy cloth, making his fingers tighten in her hair.

When he let her breathe, she could have sobbed, begged him to kiss her again. But she would not beg. Instead she stared up at him through her thick lashes, and saw the turmoil in his eyes. Finally, he released her wrists and gently guided her off his lap, so she was standing.

“Best go back to your seat,” he mumbled, his cheeks tinging crimson, “before I make a greater fool of myself, your highness.”

Zelda hesitated, then leaned down, placing a kiss to his warm cheek. Her chest ached a bit at the look in his eyes. It ached at her own desire, her body’s desire to open up to him, to let him ravish her on the table, the chair, by the hells, the floor would work. It ached with so many things unsaid. He was a good man, a man who had given so much to her, and all she could do was smile and keep herself locked away.

She sat back down and drained her wine.

Link left shortly after lunch. He had asked if she’d like to go for a ride that night, but Zelda knew it would not happen. Impa, her faithful Impa, would be returning from her travels that evening, and there was little to no chance she would be able to slip past her. She had given Link a long embrace in front of the guards, though she knew that much she could get away with.

In the evening, as the night was dark and the fire in her hearth burned hot and bright, Zelda reclined onto the plush couch she kept nestled close to the fire, her nightgown a rich dark red, like bloody against her pale skin. She was reading, a small, dusty book from the depths of the castle library, which went untouched except for her.

There was a knock on her door, before it opened on her command. She closed her book and peered over the couch, watching the slender, but well muscled female walked in, short grey hair kept back in a sleek, small ponytail.

“Impa!” Zelda said and stood up, rushing over to her and hugging her tightly. Impa hugged her back, smelling of dirt and grass and horses, travel. “It is good to see you again.”

“It’s always a pleasure to see you, princess.” She stepped back, pushed some of Zelda’s hair from her face. “I trust you’ve been well?”

“Ay. The guards are in no way you, but they have kept me safe and sound in my little cage.” Impa smiled and kept her arm around Zelda’s shoulders as they walked over to the couch. They settled in, Impa pulling off her leather gloves and reclining into the cushions.

“Have you truly been in your cage?”

“Oh Impa,” Zelda said, grinning, “of _course_ I have.”

Impa rolled her eyes, but smiled. “Was it a good night? I know it’s been quite some time since you snuck out with him.”

“Peaceful,” Zelda said, remembering how warm he was, how cool the air was, the blue glow of the moon and stars. “Very peaceful. He had lunch with me today.”

“How sweet. A shame I missed him, it’s always a pleasure to see Link.” Zelda nodded, looking into the fire. She remembered when she was younger, just a child, when he first came back to her. He’d risked everything for her, wasted years of his life, and she had tried to give it all back to him. He’d gone off suddenly, disappeared for two years, then just suddenly he was back. He’d stayed in the castle for a while, a few days, it had been so cold she hadn’t wanted him to go back to the forest, to the Kokiri. They had huddled under a blanket in front of the fire and fallen asleep on this very couch, had been allowed that one night to be together.

She had woken up holding his hand. She had woken up and fallen in love with him for what felt like the hundredth time.

“You’re rather quiet,” Impa said, “are you ill, princess? Is there something on your mind?”

“Father is finally going to marry me off,” Zelda said, “I am very certain. The council, the ones that have been handling the gold and such, they say he’s having them plan these extravagances that I can only imagine mean we’ll have company soon.”

Impa was quiet. She knew of Zelda’s dismay at being used as a bargaining tool, at having no say in her own future. She had been there through every marriage scare, but they both knew the time had to be coming. Zelda was single when some royal girls and common her age were married and mothers.

“You’ll get through it,” Impa said, squeezing her hand. “You know you will.”

“It’s only for life.” Zelda gave Impa a sad smile, and sat in silence enjoying her company.


	3. Chapter 3

Zelda did not see Link for days. She went about her business making sure the castle ran smoothly, and sat in on the small councils that helped to run various affairs whenever she was able. Between duties she spent time in the small chapel room dedicated to the goddesses, praying. Asking for their guidance, their courage, their wisdom. And their power to control her own fate.

Zelda had been devout most of her life. After how much power she realized resided inside her, after locking Ganondorf away in a realm his own, she had taken to spending time trying to focus herself, opening herself to their words and whispers. Sometimes she would fall into a deep sleep, and be whisked away to stare at the black abyss that held Ganondorf, where she would have to give a piece of herself to keeping him hidden away.

She was on her knees on the polished stone floor when the doors to the chapel room flung open. When she was in prayer, Zelda was not to be disturbed, and only one person ever ignored that demand. Her father.

“Get off that filthy floor,” he boomed, sauntering in, his stubby, ringed fingers pulling on his colorful vest, tugging it around his growing belly. “Are you a beggar? A princess does not kneel on a floor.”

“Everyone kneels to the goddesses,” Zelda said, looking back at him, annoyed. She whispered an apology to the three, then stood and smoothed her skirts. “What can I do for you, father?”

“You can show some joy, girl,” he said, “always so solemn. It’s unhealthy. But no matter, you’ll be cured of it soon!” He stooped in front of her, just taller than her, his hair, once a dirty sand now gray, his beard short and gray as well. “You’re too old to be alone, that is what’s causing your sorrow.”

“I’m not alone,” Zelda said. “Had you not interrupted, I’d be with the goddesses. But I have Impa, the many men and women of the castle. I have the kingdom, father, and everyone who lives here. And I have Link.”

“But none of them can give you the stern control you need to be happy.” She frowned, folded her arms. “Only a good husband can.”

Zelda knew the rest. Zelda knew this time it would stick. But she held her tongue and listened.

“I’ve made my decision. He’s a good one, Zelda. Second son to a kingdom by the sea. The sea! You’ll be pleased, I’m sure. You can leave the running of this place to the councils and go visit his home, see the sea and the ships! The air will do you good. His brother rules the kingdom, already married and has a son I hear. Strong family, lots of sons.”

Zelda walked away from him, cast her eyes on the walls. She had them lined with paintings depicting the goddesses, and she stared at Nayru, begging silently for her wisdom.

“I’ve received word he will be here within the coming weeks. Once he is here, you will be wed. I won’t let you put this one off as you did the others when you were younger. This time, I’ll see you turned the little wife, and finally contained!”

Zelda turned to him then, her eyes crystal fire. “Why must I be contained, father? What have I done that is so horrible? I spend my time learning how to properly run a kingdom. I know how to spend our gold and rupees wisely. I know how to give my time to my people so they may have my ear for their problems. I know how to make peace, and I know how to make war. I do not need to be contained, I need to be allowed to _breathe_.” She fisted her hands. “And I don’t want to marry some man I don’t know. I want to pick my own husband. Who he is should not matter, it is _my_ crown, not his.”

He smacked her then, his fat heavy hand, laden with rings meeting her cheek. She was lucky her skin did not break, that he was weak and could barely mark her, if at all. Still, her hand cradled her cheek, and she stared at him.

“I do hope this man will put some discipline into you. You’re insufferable, Zelda.”

“I won’t marry him.”

“You will, or by the goddesses, I’ll disown you and have you thrown into the streets to beg for the rest of your days. I’ll find myself a young wife and fuck her until she floods this castle with sons.”

With that he left her, Zelda seething silently. She locked herself in the chapel until dusk, only emerging as the sun turned the skies blood orange. She walked boldly to the stables and had a horse saddled for her, thanking the stable boy with as much kindness as she could muster before mounting. Despite her skirts, she sat like a man, letting them flow around her.

She rode out, without a cloak, and commanded the guards she passed to let her through, the gate to be opened. None questioned her, though she knew it would not take long for her father to catch word. Many of the guards might have kept their lips sealed about her departure, but some were fiercely loyal to her father. After all, she was a woman, and some men felt that meant she had no power.

She rode briskly through the city. People stopped and stare, to wave, and she tried to give them courteous nods of recognition, but her mood was sour and she needed to be somewhere. The guards allowed her through the bridge with no objection, and once on the grassy plains of Hyrule field her horse broken into a run. Her hair whipping free around her, Zelda rode hard into the darkness, towards the twisting trees.

Night had truly fallen by the time she reached a nice, clean opening. Small enough to be hard to find, it was one of her favorite places when she needed to escape the kingdom. She jumped off her horse and left it to roam, sure it would come back when she needed it. The royal horses were trained well.

Settling herself on a stump, she smoothed down her skirts and closed her eyes, her fingers flexing, her mouth shaping small, silent words laced with honey dust and the milk of death. She felt light, as if she was clawing her way from a prison, until suddenly the chains of her body were gone, and she stood, in spirit, on the stormy clouds staring into the dark cosmic abyss that held her terror.

Taking a deep breath, Zelda walked towards the storm, towards the sounds of thunder, of bones cracking and skulls crushing. Inside were bars, inside was Ganondorf, locked away from the world for eternity. Held there by the will of the Goddesses, by the grace of the Trifoce, by the third she held deep inside her body.

Zelda stood, her toes barely escaping the black, and stared. From time to time, she visited. She had to be sure his prison held. Sometimes she had to spend hours channeling herself into it, strengthening the bars, building iron and steel from her breath. Only here did she have that power, and it was not waht it was when he was first defeated. It had not grown in her as she had hoped.

It had been too long since she was here, and something did not seem right. Looking around, it was as if the storm was louder then usual, the black livelier, filled with black steel lightning. She did not hear his laughter, his curses. She did not hear him, though she knew he was there.

“Ganondorf,” she called, taking a step into the darkness. In an instant it swallowed her, engulfed her, sunk into her bones, infused in her marrow. She gasped, lost her breath, felt its fingers on her eyes, in her blood. Her hand burned, a small golden reminder of what she held inside her like molten fire. In the turmoil she heard his footsteps, heavy. She stopped at the bars, watched as his shadow grew and grew, until he was visible, cast in the dim light the swirling lightning caused.

“What an honor, princess,” he said, one hand curling around an iron bar. “It has been so long, you leave a man lonely.”

“You’re no man,” she said, eyes hard, crystal steel. “Only a demon. I come to make sure you’ve stayed in your cage.”

“Here I stand.” He spread his arms out. “You have kept me confined well, girl. I’ll remember that when I pull you apart and stuff you inside a box.”

Zelda reached out now, grabbed the bars. “We shall see.” She sneered at him, became a creature she dared not let others see. She wanted him dead, she wanted to tear him piece by piece into oblivion, to hear his bones crack, and feed the marrow to the dogs. She wanted him to suffer, but his death would not bring the peace her kingdom needed. The Goddesses had willed her to lock him away, and she, ever faithful, obeyed. But in her heart, she wanted to flay him, let his blood soak into her skin and drive her wild with fire. She wanted his pain.

In a flash his hands covered hers, heavy and strong, gripping them and pinning them to the iron. They burned, and suddenly the bars were like fire. She gasped, but did not cry out, and saw the evidence of his own portion of the Triforce burning on his hand.

“See girl, it calls to the part you’ve got.” He was grinning madly, the whites of his eyes like the core of a fire. “When I rip it fro you, the Triforce will rejoice at being nearly whole.”

“Even if you got mine,” she said, “you’ll never get the portion inside the hero.”

He laughed. “Ah, your little _Hero of Time_. That bastard Link will be crushed beneath my heel just as you are- only I won’t fuck him bloody. I’ll just rip his head from his body and wear his spine around my shoulders.”

The fire engulfed her hands, and he laughed, booming, the sound and the darkness swallowing her until she was sure she could fall through the storm into the nothingness.

Suddenly, Zelda felt hands on her shoulders, and she was not light as the air, but grounded. She opened her eyes, saw darkness, the ghosts of trees, felt the stump digging into her behind.

The hands did not burn. The eyes before her were deep as the sea, bluer still. The face gentle. Link had worry written over all his features.

Zelda slumped forward, but he steadied her, knelt on the ground before her. “Careful,” he whispered, and she leaned against him. “That’s it, I don’t want you to fall.” He stroked her wrist with one hand, the other snaking around her waist to hold her steady. “You saw him.”

“I did,” she whispered. “It’s been too long. I needed to know he was there.”

“He’ll always be there,” Link said, “you worry yourself too much. There’s no need to drive yourself to the hells just to make sure the madman is locked away. Your magic will hold.”

“It’s not what it was, not when I locked him away. Returning us to our youth, it changed things. What if he does break free?”

“Then I’ll carve his heart out.” Link stood, settled on the stump next to Zelda, his arm curling around her waist again. “He won’t touch your Kingdom, or you. Not as long as I live, Zelda. I swear it, by the Goddesses, by the Triforce inside us both.”

Zelda turned to him, grabbing his free hand and entwining their fingers. He watched her, carefully, through those ocean eyes, and Zelda wondered what he was thinking. Did he imagine Ganondorf dying, his blood on the Mastersword, did he imagine his death howls? Or did he only see Zelda as she was now, and imagine her mouth, her hands, her warmth, the way part of her imagined him in that moment.

He was her other half, and she could not have him.

“You need to get back to the castle,” Link whispered, “your father knows you’re gone. His got guards all over the city, that’s how I knew. I had come in with Malon, she had some deliveries to make.”

Oh course he had been with her. When he was not with Zelda, he was with the fiery ranch girl, and she did not blame him, though it did not please her.

“I had a feeling,” he continued, “that you might be here. My hand burned, it always does when you leave us, when you visit...him. You need to go back.”

“Fuck that,” she said, brows furrowing, “I won’t go running back. He’s marrying me to some prince from the kingdoms by the sea. He’s even on his way to Hyrule. Once he gets here, I’ll be chained to some idiot of a boy and be seen as nothing but a lowly woman. My father would love nothing more.”

Link stared at her, and she could not read his eyes. A moment passed, two, and then his arm around her tightened and he pulled her closer, pressing her to his chest. His mouth found hers, his kiss ravishing her tender lips. She melted against him, reached up and clung to his tunic, let his tongue explore her, his fingers hot fire, burning into the fabric of her dress.

She whimpered his name, though she had meant it to sound commanding. His free hand sunk into her hair, let the silken strands sink between his fingers. She pressed her body to his, wrapped her arms around his neck, for a moment forgot that she couldn’t have him. For a moment, she was determined that she would.

But then he pulled back, their breaths coming ragged, hot and mingling in the night air. He stared at her, watched her, bore into her, and Zelda quivered.

“I couldn’t let you marry anyone without properly doing that.” She saw the red in his cheeks, though he fought the blush. She smiled, gently, and stroked his cheek.

“We’ve lied about this for along time,” she said, “our silence has. I don’t want some bastardly prince worming his way into my bed, between my thighs. I want you.” She leaned in, pressed her forehead to his. “I’ve always wanted you. You’re my other half.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, and for a moment, Zelda thought she may cry. Admitting it meant it was real, meant she could lose him. She didn’t want to be in a world where you lost Link.

When she opened her eyes, he was staring back at her, his endless, open, a twist of joy and sorrow.

“I’ll always be your other half,” he soothed, “no matter who you marry. No matter where we go.” His hand ran down her cheek, her neck, rested against her breast, over her heart. “We’re bound by the Goddesses, by the Triforce we carry. No one, not your father, not a prince, not any man or woman may shatter that.”

He kissed her again, softer this time. Years of unspoken words were on their lips, only some shared that night, but enough. Enough to soothe Zelda into finding her horse and riding home, alone. She dare not have Link by her side, lest her father doubt her reasoning for running.


	4. Chapter 4

As the days and days past, Zelda spent more time locked away, in prayer, in thought with books. She attended the councils she knew she must, but she did not hold audience with her people. Her father did though, instead of having someone sit in for him. He was proud, announcing his plans for her marriage, counting down the days until her betrothed would arrive.

When the day arrived, Zelda was sick with grief. She did not eat, would not touch water or wine, and did not speak to her maid servants, nor the guards. She would look at Impa, but only speak with her eyes, not meek and defeated, but ragging, seething with something dark.

She was escorted to the throne room by Impa, and when the doors opened, she was beyond shocked to find her hero standing by her throne, tall and rigid. He smiled at her though, and she gathered the skirts of her heavy dress and hurried to him, not carrying that the guards were there. She would be locked away soon, she knew she had best enjoy her last few moments of freedom.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, and he touched her cheek.

“Impa asked me to attend. She said she insisted to your father that I should be here, as I’m such a hero to the kingdom, and such a good friend to you. Even your father cannot deny the bond we have.”

Zelda smiled, kissed his fingertips, but dared do nothing else. Instead, she settled down onto the small throne set aside for her, next to her father’s large one. Link stood on her right, with Impa on his right, as her father was escorted up by guards. He greeted Link heartily enough, and Zelda could only wonder if she had been given siblings if she would have the freedom to pursue Link. An older brother or sister to take the throne would mean her marriage was not as important, and the people would surely love to see their hero married to their princess. Even younger siblings she could pass the rule to, forsake it and live out her days in Link’s cabin in the forest.

In another life, maybe.

She heard the many footsteps before they entered. They echoed like an army, his personal guard, and when the large doors opened and the men walked in, in foreign armor and colors, it was quite a sight. Had Zelda been younger, she might have been smitten slightly from the show, but as a woman, she was only uneasy.

The guards parted to the sides, and at the center, walking with his own entourage of friends and she assumed relatives, was this prince himself. Tall, rather slim, with short chestnut waves and a bright but cocky smile. He had eyes the color of leaves, dark, and they were gazing at her father.

“Your grace,” he said, stopping, bowing low, “it is an honor to finally meet you in person. Your kingdom is beautiful.”

The king smiled and stood up, walking down to him and placing his arms warmly on his shoulders. “My boy! It’s good to have you here!” Zelda frowned and rested her cheek on her palm, could feel Link so close to her. She wished the entire room would vacate, that it was just Link and her. She wished he’d pin her to her throne and kiss her madly, let his hand explore her. She wished to know what his fingers, his mouth felt like on every inch of her. She wondered if she could make him quake with need.

“- my darling daughter!”

Zelda snapped her head up then, saw her father approaching with the prince. He was older than her, perhaps two or three years, and while good to look at, he paled in comparison to her golden hero.

“Princess,” he said, getting down onto a knee and taking her hand, kissing it gently. “I’ve heard much talk of your beauty, but all those fools should have their tongues ripped out. They do not do you true justice.”

He grinned, and Zelda wanted to cut the grin right off his face.

“No one will have their tongues ripped out while I sit this throne,” she said, standing up. She realized it was not the smartest move, as it brought his face to her thighs briefly before he stood, and his grin turned sly and devious.

He chuckled, and the King took him by the shoulder, leading him away. Zelda watched him leave, followed by his guards, his men and women, and slowly the hall began to empty. A few lingered, but Zelda decided to pay them no mind. She turned to Link, jerked her head just enough to ask him to follow, and walked off. She left the hall with him just a breath behind her, but Impa following them both, only two steps back.

She walked with hast, through the corridors, as far from the throne room as she could get. She past guards, watched as their numbers dwindled until she was nearing the castle’s library, often desolate and far from the hall.

“Zelda,” Link called out, reaching for her, grabbing her arm. She spun around, stared up at him, then grabbed his face and pulled him down, kissing him hard, passionately. She did not care that Impa was watching, she did not care that someone could walk by. She let her lips claim his, did not let him lead the kiss, and pressed her breasts to his chest, felt his body go rigid, fighting to melt into her.

“He will not have me,” she whispered to him, promising herself more so than him. She kissed him again, slipping her tongue into his mouth, and he could not fight her then. He relaxed, wrapped his arms around her, held her closer and let her lead. He was acutely aware that Impa was watching, but even that could not make him fight the goddess of desire in his arms.

When Zelda released his mouth for the second time, she swore it again, quieter. “No man comes into my kingdom and threatens to pull out my people’s tongues.”

“It was a jest, Zelda,” Link said, stroking her hair. “He did not mean it.”

“His eyes said he did.” She was frowning, darkening her face. “I could feel it in him, cruelty. I will not have that for my people. If I’m to be their Queen, they must come first.” She let her fingers play with Link’s hair, the short pony tail he had grown back. She loved her kingdom, she always had, would not forsake them for anything-

Except possibly the man holding her. But Link loved them too, had fought and nearly died for them, he understood her need to keep her people safe more so than most, though she wasn’t sure if he understood it completely.

“Zelda.” The voice jarred Zelda from her thoughts. She peered at Impa over Link’s shoulder. She was frowning, but only slightly. “This is not the place. Step away from Link before someone sees you.”

“Let them see,” she said, before turning and placing a gentle kiss to Link’s neck. She heard him exhale sharply, and realized he may have liked the kiss more than she intended. She did it again, spoke against his skin, just enough for Impa to hear. “This is the man I should be parading as my future husband, not some foreign bastardly prince.”

Yes, she’d said it. She’d rather marry Link. She’d admitted to him to wanting to bed him, now to wanting to marry him. Yet, the word love stuck in her throat and made her tongue heavy. She’d loved him so long, but that she could not admit.

“Zelda,” Impa soothed, walking closer. She touched the princess’s hand as it rested on Link’s back. “Zelda, your father won’t let you. You know that. Besides,” she continued, looking at Link as he turned his head, “have you stopped to ask our hero if that’s what _he_ wants?”

Zelda looked at Link, but before she could speak, they heard footsteps. Many footsteps, accompanied by loud voices. Zelda stepped back swiftly, and Link and Imp turned, greeted by a number of their own guard and foreign, the King, and that smirking prince.

“Ah, there you are,” the King said, “Zelda, we’ve been wondering where you went off to! What are you doing?”

“I was going to the library,” Zelda said, “with all the commotion, Impa and Link saw it fit to escort me.” She took a step forward, so to be in front of Link, and let her fingers brush his hand briefly.

“You and those wretched books,” he said, pulling his colorful vest over his belly. “Come, walk with Prince Lucian and I. You two must get aquinted.”

Zelda looked at Impa, and the woman inclined her head. There was no way out of this. “Alright,” she said, and as she walked over, continued, “Link, Impa, would you be kind enough to escort me a bit further?”

“Daughter, we have plenty of guards, and we’re within our own walls.”

“I enjoy their company,” Zelda said, “and I trust no one else with my life as I do these two.” The King shrugged a shoulder and they began, walking through the halls and to the courtyards outside.

“Do you enjoy the library?” Prince Lucian asked Zelda, falling into step next to her. Her father walked in front, just a pace away, with Link and Impa behind her.

“Oh she does,” the King answered for her, “that girl reads more than any woman _or man_ should.”

“I enjoy knowledge,” Zelda said, “knowledge and time breed wisdom. Wisdom is something every queen needs.” She touched the back of her right hand with her fingers, felt the Triforce burning in her skin, shining ever so lightly. She did not need to turn to know Link’s burned in his left hand.

“I’ve heard much of you and wisdom,” he mused. “Much of you and magic as well, little princess. The goddesses of your land pay you favor, they say. That you’ve got their magic in you.”

“I keep it safe,” she said, her voice guarded. “Part of it, anyway. Our hero keeps another portion.”

The prince stopped walking, and instantly everyone did. He turned and eyed Link.

“Yes, I’ve heard just as much talk of your hero as I have you, my darling.” He stepped closer, to Zelda’s side, and clapped Link on the shoulder. “I hear you’re quite the fighter.”

“You hear correctly,” Zelda said, before Link could try and brush it off. He’d say he wasn’t, she knew, which was a lie. He knew his sword was just an extension of his arm, his body deadlier than anything else in all of Hyrule.

“I’m glad my darling has someone so strong as her guard,” Lucian said, and the corner of Link’s mouth twitched.

“I’m not her guard,” he said, “I’ve been her friend since my youth. Don’t let her fool you, she needs no guards.”

“Your highness,” the prince finished for him. “Hero you may be, don’t forget your courtesies around royal blood.” He turned to Zelda, and Link’s eyes grew dark and stormy. Impa had to rest a hand on his arm, lest it find it’s way to his sword hilt. She shook her head as Zelda distracted the prince so as not to notice his anger.

“Let it be,” the Sheikah whispered, “it’s not worth it Link.”

Link gave a curt nod, but his anger did not leave his eyes. Zelda had never required courtesies, and often times the King even let the need slip around Link- he had earned the right of causality with them. It had been stripped in just a few words.

“When we are married you won’t need such guards,” Lucian was saying, offering his arm for Zelda. She took it simply because she knew her father would have her flayed if she did not. “My men will be all you need. Your hero can go back to slaying monsters, and that old hag can go retire to some knitting.”

Zelda stopped. They had walked away from Impa and Link, and the King had settled down onto a bench, ordered a maid to fetch him wine. They were as alone as they would be for the time.

“My guards will remain,” she said, “Impa has been my guardian since I was a babe. She has raised me. She is more a mother than the one who died when I was a child. I have tried to release her from service, but she refuses. She wants nothing more than to die blade in hand some day. I will not deny her that. And she may be older, but she is no old hag. She is a fierce warrior.”

“She’s a woman,” the prince said, “no woman is a warrior.”

“Women are fiercer than many men I’ve met,” Zelda insisted, trying to remain calm. She wanted to smack him. She wanted to pull the dagger from her boot and show him she did not fear blood, though she thought she did. She wished for a slim sword to show him she knew how to wield one. She could not wield the Mastersword properly as Link did, but a slimmer, lighter sword she could work with.

“And Link will never leave me,” she said, “no matter where our paths take us. We marry, he stays. Even if he were to marry, he would still visit me, he would still not hesitate to pick up sword and shield at my call.”

“No man is that loyal,” Lucian said, harshly. “Besides, I won’t have men around my lovely little wife so often and so freely.”

Zelda scowled. “You overstep yourself, prince. This is my kingdom, and my rule. If I wish Link to stand guard in my bed chambers while I sleep, I could command it.”

Lucian chuckled, reaching out and twining his fingers in Zelda’s hair. His green eyes were fiery, something burning in them that she did not like. “Stupid little girl. This will be _my_ rule, and my kingdom. You will sit and look pretty on the throne, and bear me sons to carry on my line. That is all you will be good for. That and for a good fucking.”

Zelda slapped his hand away then, turned, and stormed away, ignoring her own men and his, her father, even Link and Impa.

_I will not be his_.


	5. Chapter 5

The King had not lied when he said she would be wed shortly after his visit. He made the announcement to the people the fallowing day, and preparations began. Before the week was done Zalda would be wed. Her time was running desperately short.

Zelda had tried pleading with her father. She had told him what Lucian had said, but the King would not listen. He did not think it was a woman’s job to rule, but he believed Zelda had simply misheard the prince. The King was smitten with his soon to be son, and would not give his daughter his ear.

On her horse, with Impa mounted by her side, Zelda rode through the streets of the city with precious days left. She liked to ride out and see her people, to hear them outside of the open court they held, to be a part of their daily life. Zelda would not be a Queen locked in a castle.

Impa and she both dismounted as some of the passer byes stopped to greet her, to bow and curtsy. She smiled and waved, greeted them, spoke with a man whose wife had been heavy with child last time she had been out.

“A boy!” he was booming to her, taking her hands. “A healthy boy!”

“Goddesses be praised,” she said, “I am truly happy for you!”

She was helping a woman hang up some wet clothing, while Impa watered the horses, when she felt the tug on her skirts. She looked down, saw a little girl smiling up at her, strawberry blonde hair braided into twin braids.

“Hello darling,” Zelda said, crouching down to meet her. The girl was probably around six years old. She tried to curtsy, then grinned a toothy grin.

“It’s not true, princess, tell me it’s not true!”

“What are you speaking of?” Zelda asked kindly, stroking some of her hair.

“Mama says you’re yo marry a prince! A prince from the sea!” Zelda’s smile faded, and she stood up.

“Yes little one, it’s true. In a few days he’ll be my husband.” _If I don’t get myself together._

“You can’t!” The little girl wailed, clinging to Zelda’s skirts. “You can’t marry him!”

“Rosemary!” the woman who Zelda had been helping called, rushing over. She picked her up. “Where are your manners? That is our princess, you calm yourself!”

“You have to marry Link!” the girl yelled, loud enough for others to hear. The woman soothed her and carried her away, but the eyes that had turned remained locked on Zelda. She looked around, and suddenly, she wanted to run. Calmly, she walked off towards Impa and the horses in the distance, and climbed onto hers. Impa was about to mount up, but Zelda shook her head.

“Please,” she said, “I need some air. You may return to the castle.”

Impa climbed onto her horse anyway, grabbing the reins. “You know I won’t.”

Zelda sighed, resigned herself to Impa’s quiet presence, and spurred her horse off. They rode out of the city, onto Hyrule field, and Zelda let her mare open up into a run. The wind flicked her pale gold hair around her, and she sucked it in, let it seep into her pores. Cool, crisp, it felt good. It felt free.

She wondered how many of her people shared that little girl’s opinion. Did they look at her and think she was meant for their hero too? The hero she grew up with, that she was seen with so often, the man they trusted the absolute most, and the woman they loved so dearly?

Zelda saw a large ban in the distance, and the silhouette of fences. She realized she had driven her horse towards Lon Lon Ranch, without consciously intending to. She knew Link was there. He had been there often over the past few days, since the first day of Lucian’s arrival. His guards had not allowed Link entrance, while the Hylian guards had argued with them that Link was always welcome at the castle. It had been a disaster, and he jad ceased to visit her, when she had needed him most.

Slowing her horse, she trotted up to the ranch, Impa off to her side. They came across a few hired hands, all of which bowed to them, and one hurried off before she could speak, presumably to find Talon or his daughter, Malon.

“Let me help you, your highness,” one of the two remaining said as he took the reins of her horse and gave her a hand climbing down. She smiled and thanked him, while Impa stayed mounted. “If you’d like to come with me, we can meet them half way. Malon was in the barn last I knew.”

“That’d be wonderful,” Zelda said, even though she had little interest in seeing Malon. Truly, she wanted to see Link, though she dare not ask for him directly. It would be rude, and she did not want to seem desperate, though she was. She needed his deep eyes and strong arms, his waiting lips. She needed him, and all the confusion and unspoken that was their relationship.

They had reached the entrance to the large barn when the goddesses granted her wish. Link had a pitchfork in hand, turned away from her, and was tossing some hay about to the cows that were eagerly waiting. He was wearing dark breeches and his boots, but goddesses be good, nothing else. His skin was golden and glistening under the sun, a few scars here and there that called to Zelda’s eyes. She worried her lower lip, feeling a heat in her body rising that made her ache.

He turned when he felt their eyes, saw them, and to her dismay did not smile. He set the pitchfork aside and walked over, giving her a boy of his head, while the remaining hired help scurried off. Impa hung back on her horse, listening, but only as a shadow.

“Zelda,” he said, “what are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” she said, “I assumed you’d be here. You haven’t come to see me-“

“I’m not allowed access to the castle uninvited.” She gritted her teeth.

“My guards have been instructed since that incident to allow you in, even if they have to draw blood. I won’t have that bastard thinking he rules my castle.” Link was shaking his head. He placed his hand on her shoulder, warm.

“Zelda, stop. It’s done. You say you won’t marry him, but you’re no closer to your freedom.”

Her heart sank into her belly at that. She stared at him, crystal eyes wide, lips parted. She reached up, grabbed his hand on her shoulder, felt like the world was cracking around her.

“You don’t seem in much of a rush to get rid of him anyway,” Link continued, “besides, you’d be throwing a prince away, for what? You can’t truly mean to marry me, as sweet as your kisses are. I’m no prince or lord, just a man.” He guided her hand to his mouth, kissed her fingertips. His eyes looked full of hurt, as if the words were tearing from his chest and leaving him bloody. “Go back to your castle, your prince, and your true life. We’e had our fun over the years, but don’t throw away your future for something not worthy of you.”

_No..._ She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could she saw Malon rushed over, holding her skirts, red hair fire swirling around her face and shoulders.

“Oh highness,” she said, curtsying. “What an honor! I had not expected you, or I would have dressed so much better.”

“Don’t worry yourself,” Zelda forced out, her voice a bit shaky. “I... I simply came to let you know we’re honored to have you working so hard to help with some of my weddings preparations. My prince quite enjoyed the treats that were made with your famous milk.”

Malon grinned, and Zelda bowed her head. “I just wanted to thank you in person.” When she looked up Malon and slipped her arm into Link’s, was holding onto him. His hand reached up and covered her’s, and in that instant Zelda knew the road to his heart was closed. He’d chosen another, the one she had always feared.

Fearing her eyes may water and betray her, Zelda apologized that she could not stay, and thanked Malon again, wished them well, and mounted quickly. She rode off, so fast she was sure Impa even had trouble keeping up, and contemplated riding forever into the coming dark, into the mountains, then off the ledges, to fly for a moment in reality, but forever in her mind. Far away from her aching chest, from his deep, ocean blue eyes and honest smile.

That night, Zelda left her bed chambers past high moon, and crept down to the chapel. She barred the door behind her, and knelt down on the cold stone floor, head bowed, and begged the Goddesses for their aid. She could not marry this man- there was something in her gut that told her he was not right. Forgetting even her heart, her love for Link, he felt wrong, made her hand burn and ache, as if the Triforce inside her knew much more than her eyes could see.

“I need your guidance,” she whispered, “now, more than I ever have. He will be the death of my people, I can _feel_ it.”

She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut to fight back tears, and suddenly the room was warm. Opening them slowly, she was blinded by a golden light. She reached her hand up, shielded her eyes, and was met by a cool gaze, the color of the sky. Golden from head to tow, even her hair, save her eyes, Nayru had a blue aura around her as she levitated in front of Zelda, atop the alter.

“Daughter,” she said with a smile, and Zelda leaned forward, hands on the small steps up the alter and gazed up. “You have called to us- we hear you, we see your tears.”

“Nayru,” she whispered, and the goddess smiled.

“Rise darling daughter. Do not be afraid.” Zelda rose slowly, quivering a little bit. She had seen the goddesses in her dreams, she had spoken to them, felt them. But never in her years had she been awake when it happened.

She absent mindedly gripped at her nightgown, worried it, having to concentrate on her breathing.

“We see this sea prince,” she said, “from far away. We see his forest eyes, and we know they are lies. We see his mind, we feel his thoughts, we taste his blood. He is death for Hyrule, darling daughter.” Slowly, Nayru descended to the floor. She stepped slowly towards Zelda, down the steps, reached out and cupped her cheeks. She was warm, soft, like a crackling fire. “He cannot have your throne.”

“What can I do?” Zelda asked. “I have told father, warned him. He is still King, what he commands is law. And he has commanded that I will marry this man.”

“He is no man,” Nayru whispered, “he is a demon, spawn of power, hatred, lust. He will reveal himself to you in your wedding bed my dear Zelda, and he will tear you asunder until you are just a husk of a woman. He will take your throne, he will rape and kill your people, and he will free the darkness that you have locked away.”

“That I’ve locked away...” Zelda thought on it, confused for a moment, before her eyes widened in clarity. “Ganondorf.”

“He has friends among your land still,” Nayru whispered. “He has those who will do anything to see him bring the darkness. They have given him power, and he has created this false prince. Your father has never traveled to the sea lands. He does not know there is no true Lucian. There was one son, and he rules now, peacefully. Those who still love the Gerudo man have deceived your old father.”

“My father will not believe me,” Zelda said. “The only thing he feels I have the power to do is keep Ganondorf locked away. Yet someone has gotten to him despite my power.”

“You are mortal,” Nayru whispered kindly, “you cannot keep the wind from him. You have done well, but the time will come that he must be fought again.”

“His death will not bring us peace, you and your sisters have told me so.”

“His death will not bring peace yet. It will, someday, when your kingdom is ready.” She smiled. “You must stop the darkness, now and then. You must kill the darkness spawn.” Nayru leaned forward, placed her golden lips to Zelda’s forehead. “Find him in the night, he will be with a woman. You will not know her, not yet, but you will see his truth with her. Then, you will know what you must do.”

Zelda blinked, and Nayru had levitated again. With a smile on her face, she faded into the dark, left Zelda with only flickering candles.


	6. Chapter 6

Part of Zelda thought it had been a dream. Part of her was sure that truly she was curled up in her bed, under her blankets. But as she crept from the chapel, her bare feet on the cold polished stone, she knew it was no dream. She shivered and crept back towards her bed chambers, wanting to sneak in and find warmth. But once she had ascended the many steps to that level of the castle, she knew she had work that must still be done.

“Find him in the night,” she whispered. She walked silently along the empty halls, keeping an eye and ear out for the patrolling guard. She knew where her father had placed Lucian, not far from her own chambers sadly. Thankfully, he had no tried to visit her in the night. Even if he had, she made sure to bar her door, and she could easily ask for her own guard to be placed at her door if need be.

She pressed herself to the wall and peeked around the corner. There was a lone guard outside his door, but just as Zelda looked he began to move, away fro the door. He took a few steps, looked around, and then continued into the dark, off in the opposite direction.

Zelda knew for sure the Goddesses were smiling at her, and walked briskly to the doors. She gripped the heavy handle, and gently pushed, expecting it to be barred. To her surprise, it wasn’t, and she opened it just enough to slip inside.

Like her own chambers, the door opened into a large sitting room, with a plush couch set in front of the hearth. Unlike her chambers, though, the hearth was dark and cold. She neared it, knelt down, and felt the ashes. Old, freezing. Had he even lit it since he had come? Were these ashes from the last guests?

Standing up, she listened to what should have been silence to the heavy breathing in the night, to the small cries growing slowly louder. Walked towards the bedchambers, Zelda pressed herself to the door, her long ear against it, and listened. She heard groans and cries, only contained by the heavy oak door. Hands shaking, she gripped the handle, pushed it just gently enough to peek in.

Moonlight filled the room from an open window. On the bed, naked, was a Gerudo woman, her skin a sandy color, dark and smooth. Her pony tail was growing loose, a lighter red, almost strawberry blonde than most of the Gerudo’s fiery hair. Her stomach had a bump to it, a slight curve, as if she may have been with child.

The man coupling with her, pumping between her thighs, did not need to turn around for Zelda to know. She knew Lucian from his back, as she was so often stuck walking behind him now. He leaned over the woman, scooped her up, rolled on the bed so she straddled him. Laying on his back, his eyes were red as fire, the whites black as shadow. Zelda covered her mouth, could see the sharp teeth beneath his lips.

He was not human, not born of the Earth. Not wanting to be seen, Zelda pulled the door shut and hurried back to the door. She pressed her ear to it, but to her horror, she heard hushed voices, two guards now, back in place for the night. She could not leave.

Zelda crept back from the door, then turned, looking around frantically. She did not want to simply hide her until dawn, she would be discovered. And weaponless, she wasn’t sure she could handle whatever it was Lucian truly was. Her eyes rested on the window, and she walked over to it. She pushed it open, peered outside. The ledge was large enough for her to sit on with the window closed easily, and she thought just maybe she could climb along the ledges, back to her own chambers.

With no other options, Zelda slipped onto the ledge, closing the shutters behind her. She took a deep breath, shivered in the cold night air, and looked around. It was a long distance down, and she tried not to imagine the fall. She looked to her right, there were a few decorative ledges with carvings on them, before the next ledge, the window to Lucian’s bed chambers. She would have to pass that swiftly, lest he look outside.

Mustering her courage, Zelda stood and pressed herself to the stone. Her climbing skills were not terrible, after years of practice slipping from the castle, but she had never been this high before. And she had never been bare foot.

Zelda reached her foot out to the ledge, and once she was sure she had her balance, she clung to the crevasses in the rock and moved her other foot. She took a deep breath, then did it again, and again, until she was a step from Lucian’s bed chambers. Zelda leaned out, could tell the shutters were open. If she was careful, she could get onto the ledge just behind the first, and wait for an opportune moment to press on.

Another deep breath and she reached out. She had much less room to gain her footing, and lost her balance when she brought her second foot over. She clung to the castle to regain it, biting her tongue in her shock and tasting copper. She didn’t move, listened to the voices within.

“In a few days it will be done,” came Lucian’s. He must have finished with the woman. “I’ll be married to the girl, and the crown will be mine. And her fat fool of a father will be out of the way. There will be nothing keeping us from bringing our master back to us, so that he may finish his work.”

“You’ve done well,” came the female’s, a rough, sandy voice. “He was right to create you in the few moments we had together. You will not be forgotten, but treated as a son of our one true lord and king.”

Lucian was speaking again, but Zelda couldn’t make out the words. He had gone out to the other chamber. The bed shifted, and soft foot falls told Zelda the woman was walking too. Knowing this was her only chance, she quickly moved across the open window, behind the second shutter, and reached her foot out to the next ledge. She scaled another two quickly, before she stopped and allowed herself to breathe and scan her surroundings.

Ahead the castle curved, and to her dismay, the ledges ceased. There were no more until around the bend, far out of her reach. She looked around frantically, saw that there was one about six feet below. She could drop down to it, and possibly the one below that. From there, maybe she could climb down on just the rock siding a few feet, and jump to safety.

Seeing no other option, Zelda got on her hands and knees and wiggled to the edge of the ledge. She peered down one more time, before sitting down, taking a deep breath, and pushing herself off. Seconds and her bare feet hit the rough rock, but too close to the edge. She slipped, lost her balance, and tumbled, her hands clutching at the edge of the ledge. She hung there in the air, cursing, her grip slipping by the second. She could swing her slender sword, shoot an arrow from a long, but she was not prepared to hold her own weight up for more than a few seconds.

Zelda’s grip slipped, and her only thought was a set of stormy, sea blue eyes that she would not get to stare into again, a smile she could never see again, a laugh that would never fill her. A man she would never love.

In the moments of her fall hooves beat against the grass covered ground, and she landed not on the hard ground, but into a set of arms. Her force threw the two of them off the horse, and they tumbled to the ground, startling the mare. She trotted a few paces away, then looked back at the two.

Zelda blinked, her body aching, and she felt those strong arm around her, hot and tight. Link was laying next to her, on his side, wincing but not taking his eyes off her.

“Are you alright?” he was asking frantically, and Zelda nodded, though she ached.

“I...I think so.” She sat up, helped Link sit up, and then felt his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him.

“What were you doing?” He asked in a harsh tone. “It’s the bloody middle of the night! Why were you climbing the castle? By the goddesses you could have _died_ Zelda!” He hugged her tighter and she nuzzled into him, whispering that she was sorry.

“I had to though,” she said, “I can explain-“

“And you will,” Link whispered, leaning back, “once I have you inside and safely in your chambers.” He stood up and helped her out, whistled to Epona, who trotted over. He gave her a pat, then let her roam, and led Zelda back towards the castle entrance. The guards there gave them a startled look, but Zelda held her hand up, motioning that she wanted no questions. They stepped aside and let the two in, and Link asked if one of them could get Epona to the stable for him.

Once inside, Link lifted Zelda into his arms, despite her protests, and carried her. The only guards they came across were patrolling the hallways by her chambers, but they were two that Zelda knew were fiercely loyal to her, and only nodded at the two before continuing their patrol. Link let them inside the room, and stood still while Zelda barred the doors from his arms.

He carried her over to the couch by the hearth and laid her down, then turned and tossed some wood onto the low fire. Zelda felt almost drowsy, locked in her room so late at night, alone with Link. She pushed herself up on her elbows, but Link turned to her before she could speak.

“I’m sorry,” he said, kneeling down by her, “for earlier. I wasn’t...I wasn’t myself when you came by the ranch.”

“There is no need for apologies,” Zelda whispered, reaching out and touching Link’s cheek.

“I’m just... I’m,” Link stuttered, trying to find the words. Her fingers stroked his skin, and finally he whispered, “I don’t want to lose you, my princess. Not to him, or any man. Not to anyone in this world.”

Zelda tried to smile for him, but it was a sad smile. “You could never lose me,” she whispered, sitting up properly. “You are a part of me, and I you. You truly are my other half, Link.” Her hand burned then, glowed with the Triforce. She could see Link’s was too, and she reached for that hand, pulled it to her lips, kissed the hot light. “We’re bound by a magic stronger than anything a mortal could wield. No marriage can break that. My heart is yours-“

He cut her off, kissing her then. It was frantic yet soft, Link trying to restrain himself as he held her face between his hands. Zelda fell into it, clutched his arms, whimpered against his lips. This was what her nights should be. This man, his kisses, and nothing else. No princes, no demons, no damned monsters and thieves. Just Link and her, in their own sacred realm.

Link guided her back down onto her back., looming over her, one of his hands tracing her side. She yearned for his fingers against her bare skin, bit his lower lip eagerly. He hissed, kissed her furiously, let his hand slip to her chest and cup her breast. She shivered.

He touched her once like this, years before, when they had had far too much wine. They’d been locked in front of the fire giggling between curious kisses, and Zelda always thought she might have given herself to him that night had Impa not been standing guard at her door and interrupted them. She’d always known when they were up to no good.

Zelda wondered if her senses were burning now.

“Link,” she breathed, his lips traveling along her jaw, her neck. He felt tight against her, tense. She ran her hand along his spine, pressing her chest up towards his eager hand. When his lips trailed past her collar bone, her summoned her nerve and grabbed the center of her night gown, tearing it down, ripping it open in the center. Zelda gasped, then laughed, playfully, and he grinned at her, before letting his eyes trail down her body. He had torn it to the ends of her ribs, leaving her breasts bared, and they heaved with her labored breaths. He stared, watched the light flicker a delicious orange on them, and was sure he had never seen a more beautiful women.

Zelda herself was blushing. Link had never seen her, not like this, and she could only imagine what she’d feel if he bared more of her skin.

He cast his eyes back up to her, dark and sheepish, as if he was afraid she would punish him. Instead she reached out a shaky hand and thread it into his hair, guiding him back to her chest. He kissed the center gently, before exploring one of her breasts with soft kisses, the other held in his hand. When he reached her rosy nipple he slipped his lips around it, tongue tracing light circles around it, making Zelda mewl in delight.

He moved to the other breast, teasing her still, making Zelda squirm beneath him. His name came form her lips in a breathy moan, and Link groaned into her skin.

His hands clutched at her nightgown, pulling it farther down. Zelda guided the shreds off her arms, and soon Link and left her breasts long enough to guide it down her legs. He tossed it to the ground, then stayed kneeling by her side, taking all of her in. Her long legs, the gentle, womanly curve of her hips, her soft navel, with the muscle beneath no one would imagine a princess had.

And the treasure between her legs, hidden by her milky thighs and the gentle blonde curls. He felt his leggings growing tighter than usual. He had changed after leaving the Ranch, into his typical white leggings and now a rich blue tunic, and he was beginning to think it was a bad idea.

Zelda was blushing, it was creeping down her neck and color bone, even tinging her breasts a cute pink. She wasn’t sure what Link was thinking, his dark eyes hidden by his golden hair. She feared she did not live up to what he expected of her, to the other women he had seen.

She knew there were other women. He had told her, he told her nearly everything. Only a few, but still more men than Zelda had had. Truth be told, she was a maiden, she had not gone past the awkward groping of a young knight in arms she had met when she was sixteen, or Link’s kisses, and that one night by this very fire. Otherwise, she had gone untouched.

Finally, Link looked up at her his face so serious. His dark eyes were nearly blue black, hazy and cloudy with a lust so strong Zelda could feel it weighing heavy on her. He leaned down, slipped an arm under her shoulders, and brought her up for another kiss, his free hand tracing along her thigh.

“Goddesses,” he breathed, “you’re beautiful, Zelda.” He kissed her again, let his hand press between her thighs, though she did not give him free entry yet. She held him there, reaching her arms around his shoulders, keeping him close.

“If you touch me,” she breathed, “you are mine.” Her eyes gazed into his, holding him still. “I won’t be able to give you up if I have you once.”

The corner of Link’s lips twitched up in a smirk, and he kissed her again, his hand pressing against her sex. Her thighs spread and he slipped his fingers between her nether lips, met with a slick heat that made him nearly choke on her lips. He stroked along her womanhood gently, along her lips and the hot slick center, before his fingers reached up and pressed against the little pearl he knew would drive her mad.

Link was right. She gasped, clinging to him tighter, and he teased her, loving every gasp and moan that came from her soft lips. He slipped his fingers lower, let one slowly push inside her. She was hot, tight, so much so that Link feared hurting her. She had no maidenhead, even though Link knew no man had touched her in such a way. A life on horseback left her and many girls in such a state.

She was babbling against his lips in need, pushing her hips towards his hand, kissing his jaw, his neck, nipping at the golden skin. Link could barely stand it, he wanted to bury his cock so deep inside her that her core fused with him, but he was worried about her too, far that fall, and didn’t want to hurt her.

Pulling away from her, Link parted her thighs, lifting one leg and draping it over his shoulder. He bent his head before she could protest, let his tongue run up along her sex. She shivered, gripping at the couch, tipping her head back as his tongue pressed against her entrance, making her cry out.

When it traveled back up her sex, swirling around her bud of nerves, Zelda cried out louder, arching her back. Link wondered if the guards patrolling could hear, and part of him wanted to make her cry out so loudly that the whole castle heard. Let them burst in and see him with his face between her thighs, with her squirming and begging for him. Let them know how badly she wanted him.

Zelda would have agreed, had she been capable of thought. Her mind was racing static, her breath leaving her in wild gasps. Her stomach was tightening and tightening, a knot so hot that it burned the inside of her belly. She quivered, and just when she thought she could very well die, that knot burst into oblivion, leaving her to cry out Link’s name and shake, to see blinding white hot stars.

He lapped at her sex gently to ease her down, leaving her whole body fuzzy. He groaned himself, unable to help it. She tasted sweet, not what he had anticipated- but what he had dreamed. He had to tear himself from her, to gaze up at her from between her thighs.

Her cheeks were rosy, her breath still coming in pants, but she was reaching for him. Link tried to stand, but she pulled him with such force he lost his balance and pressed to her on the couch, legs entwining as she kissed his mouth, tasted herself on his lips and tongue.

“Careful,” he whispered, trying to support himself off of her. “I don’t want to hurt you. You did fall quite a ways.”

“You caught me,” she reminded him, one of her hands playing with his hair, slowly pulling it loose from the tiny ponytail.

“Yes, and I’m still feeling it,” he teased, though he knew he’d have bruises come morning. Trying to ignore his own aching sex, he finally managed to get off her, and offered her a hand up. “Let’s get you dressed and into bed.” He took one quick look at the ruins of her nightgown on the floor, and blushed. “I’m... I’m sorry about that, princess.”

“Oh hush Link,” she said, walking away from him towards her bed chambers, making sure to curl her hips as she walked. She could feel his eyes, and the filled her with fire again. She wanted all of him, but she did not think she would get that tonight. She would have to make herself wait.

Link followed her inside, set to pulling her covers back as she pulled on a fresh nightgown and crawled into bed. She patted the bed next to her, and chuckling, Link sat on it.

“Stay the night,” she whispered, “don’t leave me yet.”

Link sighed, knew he should protest, but instead kicked his boots off and stripped himself of his tunic. He crawled into bed next to her, let her curl up against him in the dark, and closed his eyes. She felt so soft and perfect in his arms, so wonderful as her legs entwined with his.

Link was sure he could die that night happy, even if he had never known her body in the many ways he so longed.


End file.
